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SummerWorks 2009: This Sentence is the Title of This Review

20080810redmachine.jpg
Paula-Jean Prudat and Christopher Stanton in Red Machine: Part Two. Photo by Pete Aspros.

This sentence is leading off this review. This sentence is intended to mimic the speech pattern that dominates the first segment, and recurs at transitional points among the other pieces, of Red Machine: Part Two. This sentence is telling you that this production is the middle portion of a trilogy that began at this year’s Fringe. This sentence hopes not to alarm as much as the sentence in the program where one of the two directors hopes that the audience will “let yourself be as curious and confused as we are” about this work in progress. This sentence won’t deny that we experienced curiosity and confusion while watching the three short pieces taken from the point of view of different pieces of a writer’s brain. This sentence is proof of how the language games of the first piece etch themselves in the brain, though it may be up to you whether this is appealing or, as repeated at the end of the production, if “this is a sentence” of the legal kind.
This sentence will tell you that despite portions where the brain’s synapses seem more broken than intended, there are good sentences (and performances) to be found. This sentence notes that Paula-Jean Prudat is the chameleon of the ensemble, as she easily glides between animal and human guises. This sentence leans towards calling Tara Beagan’s final section about a crippled pleasure centre the piece that provided the strongest emotional connection.
This sentence indicates that the next performance is today at 4 p.m. at the Theatre Centre.
SummerWorks runs until August 16 at various locations around the city. Check back for Torontoist’s daily coverage throughout the festival.

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  • http://undefined montauk

    I saw Red Machine (part one). And I’ve learned that I’m honest to god not smart enough for experimental theatre. Or experimental Torontoist posts.
    But I’m nursing some desperate and unrequited love for Christopher Stanton so I guess I’ll check it out. Maybe if I ask nicely, he’ll be all “sure montauk I will be your girlfriend”. And then we’ll start making out intensely, much to the chagrin of the audience, who won’t understand the seeming 180-turn in plot but will watch anyway because it’s gonna be so hot.
    Or, you know, I’ll just be forlornly clutching my ticket stub, stuck in an audience of people far artsier than I can ever hope to be, watching the love of my life strut around on stage confusing the fuck out of me.